The ocean grew rough. Waves slammed against the hull, black spray soaking their clothes. The wind howled, a sound that blended disturbingly with the whispers.
"Storm's coming," Leo shouted over the roar.
But the sky didn't change—it remained the same eternal eclipse. The storm seemed born from the sea itself.
The boat pitched violently. Evelyn clung to Patrick, fear stark in her eyes. Carlos fought with the wheel while Maya secured the ropes. Yonah's notebook slipped, pages tearing into the wind.
Then—out of the darkness—a shape. Massive. Rising from the waves.
At first, Patrick thought it was a ship. But as the lightning flashed from nowhere, he saw it wasn't steel. It was bone. A colossal skeletal structure, half-submerged, stretching like the ribcage of some dead god. The shadows clung to it, swarming along its jagged edges.
"What the hell is that?" Carlos cried.
"Their nest," Yonah whispered. His voice trembled for the first time. "We've sailed straight into it."
